Every Whim
by Submissfit
Summary: A Sherlock/Reader Fic The failed murder attempt which resulted in your new flat being burnt to a crisp was what made you a temporary homeless. You have admired Sherlock for a long time and now you're going to him for help, a dream come true in your eye's. You move into 221B whilst the case is under way and things start to get rough.. in the good way. Kind of Sub/Dom. First fic.
1. Prologue

The failed murder attempt which resulted in your new flat being burnt to a crisp was what made you a temporary homeless. Luckily the idiot who did this timed it completely wrong and set the fire on the one afternoon you got called into work for a night shift. You were just relieved that most of your things where still at your old place.

It broke your heart to see your own flat engulfed in flames. All you could do was stand there and watch the fire-fighters struggle to extinguish the blaze, just staring wide eyed, too shocked to even cry.

You vaguely remembered hearing sympathy from the onlookers and a fire-fighter in the distant explaining that it was no accident when you walked through the growing crowd to call for a cab. What did it matter to you if they thought you where ignorant? You weren't going to be living near them any more.

"221B Baker Street Please"

_He_ was your first thought.

You'd never admit it to anyone, or to yourself for that matter, that you where secretly a little thankful to who ever did this, just so that you could visit the consulting detective. A ridiculous thought, yes, but you've admired him for so long, read every post in his blog, researched everything there was to know about him, dreamt about him, even had his name on your lips whilst bringing yourself to climax. You where and still are infatuated with this man and having a reason to visit him made every bone in your body quiver.


	2. Chapter 1

After a drive that seemed to take an eternity, your cab finally pulls up and you hand the driver the owed money. You stand there for at least five minutes, gazing at the golden numbers upon the grand door. You don't even know if they're in?! For all you know they could be out on a case but you pluck up the courage to ring the doorbell anyway. After a minute of waiting the sweet old landlady comes to the door and greets you kindly. Her smile could warm the coldest of hearts.

'Hello there deary, are you here to see Sher-' she stops abruptly as she notices your tears and gives you an apologetic look 'Come on in, ill fix you a nice cup of tea whilst you wait for Sherlock and John to come back, shouldn't be long now' she gestures to her kitchen and you give her a weak smile and whisper your thanks.

She hands you a mug of hot tea and touches your shoulder gently, you try your hardest to keep a brave face and you will the tears to stop falling, she tusks in sympathy.

'You look mortified, would you like to talk to me about what happened?' Just as you open your mouth to tell her, you hear an annoyingly loud bang as Sherlock and John come waltzing through the door with huge grins on each of their faces. You watch as Sherlock sweeps the kind woman into a hug and kisses her cheek.

'Another case solved in record time Mrs Hudson! I think we deserve a well earned cup of tea, don't you?' he gives her a wide smile.

'I'm your land lady dear -'

'Not your housekeeper' they say in unison as Sherlock rolls his eyes letting then settle on yours. You can feel them, burning.

'Okay, but don't get to comfy, this young lady wants to speak to you two'

'Obvious.' He articulates the word slowly, almost seductively, letting it role off of his tongue.

'It'll be easier talking in the flat' He frees you from his gaze, spins on his heels and heads up the stairs, his coat flowing gracefully behind him, John following closely.

'I'll switch the kettle off then, shall I?' she shouts as her eye's follow him, smiling fondly, she shakes her head 'off you pop then, don't want to keep him waiting, dear'

You let out a deep breath you hadn't even realise you were holding and stood up to follow. You give Mrs Hudson a quick smile and a thank you before heading to the stairs.

Your thoughts start to go frantic as you slowly start to climb. _'what if he doesn't care? Thinks your case isn't even worth listening too? What if he thinks you're the most idiotic, pointless human being to have ever walked into his line of sight?'_ but before you know it you're in his front room. You can almost taste your anxiety.


	3. Chapter 2

You stand there frozen for several minutes taking in the scenery, the elegant wallpaper, the hundreds of book scattered carelessly around, a few dishes here and there and so much science equipment your inner geek flails! You cast your eyes to a faded yellow smiley face spray painted on the wall with what looks like... bullet holes invading the child like image, making it look more depressing than anything.

'That's what happens when i get bored, so lets hope your case is worth listening to.' Sherlock's deep baritone snaps you back to reality and melts through your ears. _Oh God it's like listening to sex. _You slowly turn to see him sat in an old armchair with his hands placed delicately underneath his chin, as if in prayer. A small half smile playing on his lips, his eye's locked on yours. Your breath, gone.

Determined not to look a fool you compose yourself giving him a confident smile, not breaking eye contact. He can see right through you, especially because of the mascara marks trailing down your flushed face are still wet and you can just tell you look like a wreck.

John walks towards you with a mug in each hand and an apologetic smile.

'Here you are, now miss...'

You introduce yourself between sips of tea, feeling the hot liquid warming your throat. Such a heavenly feeling.

'Lovely to meet you, I'm John and this is Sherlock.' O_f course you already know that._ 'Would you like to take a seat and explain what has happened.'

'Well..' You set the mug down on the coffee table and take a seat on the sofa. 'I've just moved into a new flat and i love it.. well_ loved _it that is, up until it-'

'Was set on fire.' Sherlock finishes

'Wow, I wonder how you can tell.' You retort sarcastically with a smile, any one in a one mile radius can probably smell the smoke coming off of your now ruined clothes. Sherlock's gives you a small huff and lets you continue. 'On the night the fire was set I got called into work, luckily, for a night shift. This morning I arrived to find my flat engulfed in flames.' You have to fight back tears again. 'S-so obviously I was in shock.' You clear your throat. 'I heard a fire-fighter trying to explain that it wasn't an accident but i wasn't exactly listening, I was walking away from him actually, to get a cab. I came here straight away, it was my first thought.' You hang your head low, ashamed for some reason. Any minute now your barriers are going to break, you can feel the tears.

'So that's all the information you have? You didn't ask how they knew it wasn't an accident?!' you can feel the irritation in Sherlock's voice. 'Great, do you remember what the fire-fighter looked like so you can get more information?' you wince at his voice and raise your head, meeting his icy gaze. Admittedly you're a little turned on but upset at the same time, its a confusing feeling.

'W-well I believe it was Jack, a distant family friend.' Tears, _fantastic. And you thought you was going to be confident_, you scold yourself. Even through your tears you refuse to look away from his scrutiny.

'Oh, you did get at least a _tiny bit_ of useful information.' Sherlock quirks an eyebrow and rolls his eyes.

'Jesus, Sherlock! Lessen the attitude just a little, She's just lost her home!' John shoots him a frustrated look. 'Sorry about that, do you have anywhere you can stay?'

'I have a cousin who lives on the outskirts of London, I guess I could stay with her.' You look down wiping your tears which have finally stopped.

'That's settled then.' Sherlock beams and stands up.

'What? No, Sherlock!' John barks. 'That's at least a 2 hour drive and you're still obviously in shock, I suggest you stay here for a few nights so you can get your bearings.' He gives you a warm smile and awaits your reply.

You look nervously towards Sherlock who is now gaping at his flatmate.

'I don't want to intrude, I mean, if Sherlock's uncomfortable with the idea then-'

'Nonsense! It's fine honestly, I... _we _insist. You may have to sleep on the sofa though.' He gives you an apologetic look.

'Thank you so much, it means a lot.' Your resulting smile is so grateful, you look towards Sherlock and his eye's are on fire. 'Erm... would it be okay if I used your shower? I don't want to make your whole flat smell like smoke.' You aim the question at Sherlock and you see his eye's widen just a little. John answers.

'Oh yeah of course you can, its through the hallway and to your left. There are fresh towels in there and I'll get Mrs Hudson to come and collect your clothes so she can wash them, just leave them outside the door.' John heads to the stairs to leading to the dear landladies flat and Sherlock just stares at you intently.

You find yourself attached to his gaze, his eye's never backing down. The colour of his iris's have swallowed you up and you just stand there practically in a trance. Your mouth goes dry and you can feel heat pooling just below your stomach. _If he can do that with just a look imagine wha-_

'Aren't you supposed to be getting a shower.' He interrupts your thoughts, his voice low and quiet.

You gulp and turn to head for the bathroom. Once inside you rest your back against the door and sigh. _Balls._

You strip, folding your clothing neatly then you wrap a towel around yourself so you can place your clothes in the hallway.

It takes about ten minutes just to get the shower to work and another five to get it to the right temperature. Stepping into the tub you can feel the stress wash away as the water beats down over your head and shoulders, a slight moan escaped your lips as the warm water caresses your body. _God this feels good. _After the day you've had, you deserve some relaxation. After some time you pick up a bottle of all in one shampoo and conditioner.. _Boys, so lazy..._ You shake your head and apply it, massaging it into your hair. Rinsing it off you notice a bottle of shower gel to the side of you, _I bet this is Sherlock's, _your mind whispers, _use it! You'll smell like him, _you grin wickedly. Biting your lip you squirt some into your hand and rub it all over your body, giggling. It smells amazing.

More minutes pass by as you just stand under the running water with your eyes closed, your thoughts start to drift to the inappropriate as you inhale the smell of Sherlock. They're soon cut off though.

'AAAAAAAAH! NO NO NO NO! OH MY GOD, THAT'S FREEZING!' You squeal and flail as the water turns from relaxingly warm to Antarctic, frost bite cold in a split second. You jump out of the tub hitting you knee on the side. 'OW FUCK!' You scramble to grab a towel and you wrap it tightly around yourself, to trying gather heat. Shivering you exit the bathroom and pad into the kitchen to find Sherlock leaning against the table with his arms crossed, chucking to himself.

'That's hardly funny!' You exclaim through chattering teeth.

'Hmm, I regret to say, it could be quite amusing to have you stay here for a few nights.' He gives you an evil half smile as he glides past you to his room.

You make an agitated noise as you walk through to the living room to be met by a quite shocked looking John.

'I heard a scream, are you okay?' He gushes breathlessly.

'What? Oh yeah I'm fine, just the shower almost gave me frost bite.' You say, still mildly annoyed by the amusement Sherlock got out of your ordeal.

'Sorry, it does that sometimes, here your clothes are ready and also here's an old night shirt you can borrow.' He hands you the pile.

'Thank you so much.' You give John a warm smile and make a mental note to thank Mrs Hudson tomorrow. As you're heading to the bathroom, Sherlock emerges from his room and only just avoids walking into you. 'Apology accepted.' You whisper as you enter the bathroom.

You emerge nervously, just in Johns night shirt and underwear (_thank God for girl boxers). _Both of their heads snap to look at you and you blush furiously. You walk into the living room shyly and take a hesitant seat on the sofa letting the awkward silence get thicker. John's the first to break it.

'We're going down to the Fire Station to get information, we may be out for a while so don't wait up.' He avoids eye contact out of respect and follows Sherlock out of the door with a quick chirp of 'Cya later.'

'Bye.' You whisper as you hear the front door shut.

You let out an exasperated sound and look around for something to do. 'Ugh, this place is a mess.' You look around at the dishes and empty cartons of food. 'I have a few hours to kill, why not.' You grab you iPod from your handbag and play it full blast, dancing as you clean.

An hour passes and you get bored of cleaning. You flop down on the couch, pick up a random book and curl up, _might as well give it a read._ Ten minutes later your fast asleep with the book spread across your chest.

You wake up with a start, sitting up straight and gasping.

'Bad dream?' You turn to see Sherlock staring at you with his hands pressed together underneath his chin, his eye's burning into you already. _Eye contact like this should be illegal this time in the morning._

'Just one of those falling dreams, y'know?'You slur, sleep distorting your voice.

'No.' And with that he stands up and stalks off to his room.

Your eyes follow him and you shake your head trying to clear it a little. You look at the clock, _2PM!? Why did no one wake me, _you let your body slam back down on the sofa.

Even though its now afternoon, you do the usual morning ritual. Shower, brush teeth, apply the limited amount of make-up you have with you and get dressed. The one thing you cant do is get something to eat, _there's nothing in! Screw this I'm going out for lunch, _at that thought you jump to it but just before you leave Sherlock grabs you by the wrist.

'Where do you think you're going?' His voice cuts through you, his hand sending volts of electricity through you, your breath hitches and your eyes flicker from his hand to his eye's, they're pinning you in place. He releases your wrist when he notices your reaction.

You clear your throat.

'I was just going to get something to eat.' You whisper, unable to find your voice.

'There is someone out to kill you and you want to go get brunch?' You can taste the sarcasm in the air, you shrug your shoulders. 'John will bring something back after his shift at the surgery, until then you do not leave this flat.'

You just nod in reply and you remind yourself to breathe as he tears his eye's away from yours and marches off back to his room.

Sighing you flick on the TV and channel surf until you're certain that there is nothing on of importance. You throw the remote across the sofa and slouch back, turning your head to stare at Sherlock's bedroom door. Curiosity gets the better of you and you find yourself walking towards his door. You press your ear ever so gently to the cold wood. You can hear him, Pacing and mumbling to himself, something about not being able to think properly, you hear your name a few times too. Trying to get a better listen you press your ear closer to the door, accidentally pushing it open and stumbling onto his floor.

You stare wide eyed as his expression switches from confusion to fury in a tick. You rush to explain.

'I'm so sor-'

'Shut up!' He snaps. 'Don't even _dare _speak.' You press your mouth tightly together. 'Do you even realise what you're putting me through? Do you?!' He picks you up off of the floor and pushes you against the wall. You shake your head violently with fear and lust etched on your features. 'I can't _think _because of you! You're in my head constantly, you're ruining my concentration, driving me insane!' You realise what he's saying and you can practically _feel_ your pupils dilating. Your breath goes shallow and your heart feels like its going to explode. He takes in your reaction and his eye's darken. 'You know what I want to do to you?' He growls as you let out a whimper. Pure want apparent in his eyes. Heat flares between your legs.

He lowers his mouth to your ear and speaks through his teeth. 'I want want kiss, lick and caress every inch of your body, I want to bite you until I brake the skin, leaving _my_ mark. I want to tease you to the point that you're squirming beneath me, I want you begging me to fuck you and when I do, I want you screaming _my _name!' His breath is heavy on your neck and you moan. 'I want you bowing to my every whim.' You struggle for friction, so turned on it hurts.

You gasp as one of his hand comes up and wraps tightly around your hair, tugging hard, revealing your neck. He licks a line, painfully slow from your shoulder blade up to your ear making you emit sobs of need. 'I want to make you come so hard you wont be able to stand.' His deep baritone seduces your ears, making you quiver.

With what breath you have left, you whisper through clenched teeth.

'Do. It.'


	4. Chapter 3

A wolfish grin spreads slowly across his face as he draws nearer to your ear and lets out a quiet, lust filled laugh.

'That's what you want isn't it? This is what you've been dreaming of before you even met me, Isn't it?!' he growls in your ear 'Answer me when I am talking to you.' You feel his hand leave your hair and travels to your throat wrapping gently around it.

You stifle a groan and just about whisper your yes.

You feel every muscle in your body convulse as he drags his teeth down your earlobe. Sherlock pulls his head back, his eyes boring into you, the blueish-grey barley visible around his dilated pupils. He moves closer to your aching lips, his eyes never leaving yours and before you know it he is ravishing your mouth, his teeth tugging on your bottom lip making you gasp, his tongue then exploring the shape of your mouth, swallowing every plea, moan and groan you have to offer, his large, long fingered hand still caging your neck, thumb caressing your pulse point. You bring your hands up to twist in his black curls, tugging and bringing him closer to you, but all to soon he stops making you curse and beg.

He pushes away from you and takes in the sight of your kiss stung lips, your heaving chest, the need in your eyes.

'Strip.' He orders and you do not hesitate. Your shaky hands work clumsily but quick on the buttons to your blouse, you pull it off almost aggressively and throw it to the floor, followed by your jeans. You stand there in your underwear, relieved that you decided to wear a matching set of black lace panties and bra today.

Sherlock glides over to you and gently runs a single finger down from the base of your flushed neck, between your breasts and settles it just above the elastic of your lacy knickers making you quiver.

'The marks I could leave on you' He says, almost to himself. _The marks I _want_ you to leave on me, _your mind echoes. He marvels at your body, as if memorising it for future referencing, and trails his finger back up your body. 'Bed, now' He purrs.

Your legs are shaking as you walk the short distance across the room to the awaiting satin sheets with Sherlock following closely behind.

Turning to sit on the bed you realise that he's already naked and oh what a sight it is, his pale, smooth skin accentuates his muscles and highlights the way they move as he stalks towards you, a hungry look in his eyes.

He grasps each side of your face and delves in for another spell bounding kiss, reaching around, he unhooks your bra, freeing your aching breasts and pushes you back by your shoulders. Breaking the kiss he moved his mouth down to your sensitive nipples and flicks his tongue over one sending electricity straight to your groin and making you whimper. He takes your nipple into his mouth, sucking and gently biting making you cry out and almost sob with pleasure. Your hands grip the sheets as he repeats the torture on the other, making you wriggle beneath him, desperate for friction. You gasp as he releases your nipple in favour of biting and sucking a series of purple marks down from your chest to your stomach and finally arriving just above your clothed sex. With his teeth, he slowly drags the lace down your legs and throws it across the room.

'What do you want me to do?' He teases, knowing that you're frustration is becoming unbearable.

'T-touch me.. P-please touch me.' You gasp.

'Where? Here?' He runs a slender finger along your folds making you arch to his touch, your mouth open with a silent scream.

'Yes!' You sob in pleasure as he inserts one and the another finger into you. He curls them once and chuckles at your resulting groan.

He starts to move them faster and faster adding his clever tongue to your longing clit, making you scream and grasp on to his hair. You can feel yourself cresting, with every pump of his fingers you know that it wont be long until you're shattering around him. All of a sudden everything stops and you cry out in frustration as he pulls away from you, leaving you shaking and begging.

'No, you cant do this! Please!' You shout, your eyes screwed shut at the pain of not being able to release.

He stands watching you, amusement etched on his face, a smile playing on his lips.

'Are you.. begging me?' He asked in mock confusion.

'Yes, Yes I am please! I-' You gasp and cry out, you cant believe how desperate you sound but you hardly care. In a second he's hovering over you again but not touching.

'I'm sorry.. what was that?' Arousal clear in his husky baritone. You growl in annoyance.

'Please Mr Holmes... Please'

He Sighs.

'As you wish.'

A groan escapes you lips as he warps your legs around his waist and lifts you swiftly off of the bed and pins you against the wall in one swift movement, moving his hands so that both of them are supporting your arse. Grabbing his twitching cock you guide him to your entrance, tilting your head back as he pushes inside of you, whimpering when he bottoms out.

Legs linked around his waist you both start to move together, his frantic thrust hitting your sweet spot every time making you scream and curse with pure ecstasy. Crushing his lips to yours, biting and sucking, swallowing your cries and returning them with growls, snapping his hips until your practically bouncing off of the wall on to him, pushing him deeper.

You can feel the build up, intense, hot and heavy in your stomach, you're so close you can taste it. Sherlock grasps your hair in his fist, pulling it back to expose you neck and bites. Hard. Igniting your climax. You come in a blaze of light, throwing your head back and screaming his name until it hurts, convulsing, clenching around him setting off his release. You feel him twitch and let go inside of you as he groans out your name, fingers digging into your hips and thrusting a few more times before pulling out. You wince at the loss.

You unhook your legs from around his waist and set your feet on the ground, your knees instantly buckling, bringing you to the floor.

_'I want to make you come so hard you wont be able to stand.' _You smile, remembering.


End file.
